


A Pure White Heart

by Barfily



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26458558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barfily/pseuds/Barfily
Summary: Trainee Hansol wakes up in the year 2020 and finds so many amazing things, but one very, very, very terrible thing.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon
Comments: 41
Kudos: 189





	1. Chapter One

In second grade, Hansol gets a girlfriend. 

She's the smartest girl in class, and her hair is big and curly. 

After school one day, she asks if he wants to hold hands. 

Hansol says okay, and when they reach their neighborhood, she says they're boyfriend and girlfriend, now. 

Hansol says okay. 

He knows that boyfriends and girlfriends kiss, so they do that, on the cheeks, and she smiles and giggles and runs home. 

She waves at him before disappearing inside her front door. 

Hansol smiles, and waves back. 

She's happy, and it makes him happy. 

x

In fourth grade, Hansol gets a girlfriend. 

She likes to draw anime characters during class, and when Hansol asks, she draws his requests, too. In his eyes, her drawings are astonishing, basically professional, just like in the shows. He's amazed by each one, and he likes watching her do it, endlessly impressed by the magic she makes happen between the pencil and the paper. 

"This is us when we're married," she tells him, one day, showing him a drawing of two figures. A man and a woman in hanboks, which she filled in with bright, pretty colors. Despite what she said, Hansol can't find himself in the drawing, and her giddy excitement washes over and beyond him. 

He can tell this idea is supposed to make him smile, though, so he does. 

He saves it, like he saves all of her drawings – even the ones after they break up, which are sad. Pictures of crying girls, tears streaming down their cheeks, hearts glowing and visible outside of their chests, in two broken pieces. 

Like the excitement before, he doesn't know what to do about the incredible sadness in these pictures, but he understands that he is the cause of it, and so he accepts them. He files them away, and remembers them. 

x

In eighth grade, Hansol gets a girlfriend. 

She styles her long, dark hair every morning in careful braids and curls. She's in both soccer and track. She is pretty, but it's the cloud of sadness around her, always, that first caught Hansol's attention. He finds her amazing, like many boys in their year. She's intimidating, though, and not many gather up the courage to approach. 

Hansol does, and when he tells her that he saw her practice, and he was impressed, she smiles.

It's small, but enough to break through that constant miserable fog around her. The sight of it grabbed him by the heart, and at the end of the month, when she asks if he'd like to be her boyfriend, he says yes. 

They go to movies on the weekend, and hold hands in the halls, and make out before studying and clubs after school. These things are nice, and Hansol likes them, but most of all, he likes anything that makes her smile, which Hansol is realizing is one of the best feelings in the world – seeing someone he cares about happy, because of him. 

When she asks for a kiss on the cheek to cheer her up, or a snack during lunch, Hansol is happy to clear out his pockets, to get her any sweets she wants. 

If this is what it means to be a boyfriend, Hansol thinks he's becoming an expert. If it's something she wants, then he'll accomplish any task, to make sure she's always happy, the rest of their lives. 

When they break up, she cries. 

Hansol watches, mumbling an apology that does nothing to stop the tears, but saying it anyway, because he knows he caused this. 

x

At Pledis, Hansol gets Seungkwan.

They're the same age, basically, just a month apart. They're both accepted in the same year, too, and practice together with the same teachers, in the same lessons. 

This could've set them up as rivals. There's a lot of that here, all the trainees are intense about their goals, and if they aren't, then they quickly stop showing up. It's easy to see another boy succeeding as a threat, which makes some of the trainees mean, eyeing each other with cold, sharp stares, another row of judges beside their actual managers, ruthlessly hunting out weaknesses during evaluations. 

That's not what Seungkwan does. If he thinks Hansol needs help, he tries to help. He tells him when he thinks he's done well, and listens to Hansol's opinions in return. And when their instructors are overly mean or critical of Hansol, Seungkwan grabs his hand, and holds it tight. 

Over time, that tight grip Seungkwan keeps on him becomes an anchor. They're allies, they're united, they're already on the same team long before they're officially picked for the new trainee project scheduled to debut next. 

Hansol's idol dreams are vague – he wants to do well, generally. He wants to succeed during each practice, of course, and he trusts that over time, doing so will add up to something worthwhile, but beyond that it's a bit fuzzy.

With Seungkwan in his line of vision, Hansol's goals become clearer. He wants to be a part of _this_ group, with _this_ member, he wants to keep listening to Seungkwan sing, and wants to see Seungkwan's happiness when they succeed. 

It's just frustrating that it's taking so, so long.

x

It's confusing when Hansol wakes up, because he doesn't recognize the manager in the doorway saying his name. 

Also, he's alone. 

Hansol moved into the crowded Pledis dorms last year, where all the members have to share space – the only time Hansol gets a room all to himself is when he's at home, and there's no way he's at home. 

Where he actually is, he can't tell, or why he's being woken up this early. But sometimes he misses things, and he's learned to just go with the flow instead of asking questions. Usually he figures it out well enough along the way.

He gets dressed in the first thing he puts his hands on, and pokes his head out into the mystery space.

Okay... for real. Hansol does not recognize this hallway. 

Trying to get his brain to engage is like poking a bag of wet socks. He can only stare and listen to the sounds of multiple other people, in other rooms, shuffling around in muted hurry. 

Hansol looks around again, confused and tired, and walks toward the only source of light at the end of the hall. 

When he gets there, he sees it's coming from a combination kitchen/living room. The floor is clean, polished wood, there's a gigantic television mounted on the wall, and large, impressive looking appliances in the kitchen – he can tell this is an expensive place. 

_The CEO's apartment..?_ Hansol wonders. He's the richest person Hansol knows. 

"Oh good, Vernon-ssi," the strange hyung from before says when he sees him standing there in a daze. He nods toward the front door. "Breakfast is in the van."

Hansol stares. 

A few years ago, his family adopted a new cat. She had to be spayed first, so she was drugged up and loopy for the drive to her new home. Hansol had felt so bad for her, imaging how confusing that must have been, how disorienting, to wake up in a completely new place, with new people, no idea what's going on. 

Now, it's happening to him. 

Nervous, he nods and shuffles toward the door. 

Oh, god. None of the shoes in the shoe rack are his. They're all gigantic. He can fee the manager watching, and he sweats, looking for a pair that might fit. 

_How did he get here? Where is here?? What is going on?_ He wants to see Seungkwan. He doesn't like the feeling of being in over his head, and Seungkwan is usually good at straightening out confusing things. 

Whatever's going on now is so weird that Seungkwan probably wouldn't actually be able to fix it, and Hansol knows that, but the urge is still there. 

Holding his hand would be comforting at least. 

"Vernon-ssi? Do you need help?"

"No! No, I'm fine," Hansol waves him off, bowing rapidly, grabbing a random pair of shoes, and backing out the door. 

He's in a stairwell. 

Hansol's eyes go wide, looking back once at the door he just exited, then again toward the stairs, unable to make sense of this. He approaches the railing and peers down. They're several stories up. 

Slowly, he takes a seat on the top step and pulls on the shoes he picked at random. Red converse. They look clownishly large, but when he tugs them on, they fit. 

Hansol is more awake, and he looks down at his own gigantic, clown-sized feet in rising panic.

 _Where is he_ , and what is going on, and what happened to his body – all these questions keep repeating as he thuds down the stairs in clunky, heavy steps, gaining more speed as he goes, trying to escape the stranger upstairs and the entire situation. 

He reaches the bottom floor and he's officially going from freaked out to frightened – until he sees Soonyoung. 

Soonyoung. One of his most put together hyung, in a winter jacket, standing in front of three parked vans. The sight of him alone brings immediate relief: nothing can be too bad if Soonyoung is here. Soonyoung-hyung can help. 

He beelines toward him, then slows down as he gets close – close enough to see that – he's actually – 

Soonyoung is shorter than him. 

"Tsk," Soonyoung says, once Hansol's stepped up beside him. Soonyoung is clearly sleepy as he looks up at Hansol's face, then pats Hansol's cheek. "Handsome man."

That's it. That's all he says, Soonyoung turns away and climbs into the open door of the van. 

Unsure of what else to do, Hansol follows.

This must have been a mistake, because Soonyoung frowns in confusion as he straps on his seat belt. "What's wrong?"

"Uh," Hansol tries to think of a question that will get him the most information. "I - I forgot what we're doing today."

Soonyoung snickers, pulling out breakfast from a bag sitting beside him. "MuBank," he says. "Seungkwannie's not gonna let it drop he if he finds out you didn't know."

"MuBank," Hansol repeats. "Music – Music bank?"

"Yeah," Soonyoung says, cracking open the case around his food, now frowning in concern. "Hey, go eat. Wake up. Hiphop's breakfast is van is behind this one."

"Yeah – yeah, okay. Thank you," Hansol says. 

Hip hop. Seungkwan. Music Bank. Hansol turns all of these elements over in his mind as he walks to the van that has hiphip's breakfast in it.

Hansol is in a hiphop unit? 

Seungkwan is still here, and Soonyoung is here, and they're in a group, and they're - they're going to perform on _Mubank_. 

Hansol's heart is thudding, rapid and excited, as he reaches the inevitable conclusion: They made it. They did it. They debuted and they did well enough to perform on an award show. To be nominated on _Muisc Bank_. 

The first person Hansol wants to share this exciting news with is Seungkwan. He wants to find him and shake him, tell him that they did it, they're going to be singing on _Music Bank_ , and Hansol is a real rapper. He pictures Seungkwan standing in the practice room, waiting for him, and how his face would light up, how excited he'd be to hear it – 

_THUD_.

Seungcheol climbs onto the van.

Seungcheol is a giant. 

Hansol openly stares from his seat in the back of the van. Seungcheol doesn't say anything, he looks more out of it than even Hansol was, eyes barely open as he grabs his own breakfast. He sits heavily, slumping into his chair, probably trying to fall asleep again. Hansol traces the length of his broad, broad shoulders. His arms, too. 

Seungcheol is a man. He's an _adult man_. 

What year is it?

Hansol doesn't know, he doesn't have his phone. Where is his phone? Probably he has a new one by now – how will he recognize his phone when he sees it? He stays quiet and still, not wanting to give himself away somehow, when Mingyu climbs in next. 

Another giant. He's so tall, 163cm at least, and his face is so much – sharper. His jaw. His forehead, hair pushed back away from his face. He looks like an idol, a real senior idol.

"You forgot your phone," Mingyu says, holding it out for Hansol. 

"Oh. Thank you," Hansol says, and takes the object, which, like everything else that has entered the van so far, is much, much, much larger than he was expecting. The boarder on the top and bottom that he's used to is gone, the display stretches the entire screen. Hansol fiddles with it, trying to avoid staring as Mingyu takes the seat beside him. Lucky for Hansol, Mingyu's tired too, and he slumps against the side of the van with a long suffering groan. 

"Feeling okay?" Hansol asks without thinking. 

Mingyu shrugs one of his broad, wide shoulders. "I went to bed early, it was just hard to wake up."

"It's like that sometimes… " Hansol mumbles, then goes quiet, feeling awkward. 

Mingyu, Seungcheol, Hansol, in the hiphop van. Who else? Wonwoo, maybe. Doyoon? 

He watches members appear, but they're in jackets and walking the other direction, so it's hard for him to know who is who right away. He puts his face close to the window and watches, slowly identifying Jeonghan, and Joshua – Jihoon is obvious. So is Chan. Then a group of five members come down at once, clustered together and moving quickly. The only one he can recognize is the one approaching them, Wonwoo. 

From a distance, the only thing new about Wonwoo is his hair, which is parted at the side, and smooth and silky and shiny, which is something none of their hair _ever_ is while staying in the dorms, having to ration the shampoo and conditioner so carefully. 

When he gets close enough to step into the van, Hansol can see the differences. His face is sharper, shoulders broader. He doesn't have the same imposing, heavy, bigness as Mingyu and Seungcheol but Hansol can see the new strength in his wiry frame. 

Hansol diverts his gaze down, toward his phone, not wanting to get pulled into a conversation, but Wonwoo does the same as the other two. Sits down, gets comfortable, and falls asleep. 

In the silence of the van, Hansol makes three attempts to unlock his phone, and feels his face heat when his fourth guess works. _011698_.

What does that mean? Maybe – maybe something – good?

He spends the rest of the drive looking over the photo gallery. The most recent pictures are of Sofia and his parents, smiling up at him from his screen, instantly recognizable, and the sight soothes the edge of any panic inside him. Everything is truly is fine, if they're okay and happy like this. If there's anything wrong, it can be solved, as long as he knows all of the most important people are already accounted for. 

There are hundreds of pictures of his members, though he can't find any sign of Doyoon, Dongjin, or Mingming. He counts over and over, finding only thirteen members. Did they quit? Did the company give up on the concept? There's only one new face he doesn't recognize, a tall, narrow boy, often wearing glasses, longish hair. He looks frail, like a sapling, and Hansol wonders if he's a singer.

"We're almost there guys," the driver says. "Everyone finish breakfast?"

There's some grunts. Wonwoo groans as he stretches in his seat. Mingyu doesn't open his eyes right away, but pops off the plastic lid and starts eating slowly, and Wonwoo does the same while balancing his phone on his knee, watching a video. Seungcheol pouts even in sleep, rolling over as much as he can in his char, toward the wall.

"Eat, Hansol," he suddenly grumbles. 

Impressed, and a little terrified, Hansol does. 

It's sunrise by the time they make it to the studio, the sky dark purple. 

One of the other vans has already beaten them. He sees Jihoon's tiny figure, then Seokmin's taller one. That must be the singing unit, and he looks, expectant and eager, for Seungkwan to join them. 

"He's on a coffee run with the manager," Joshua tells him after they park. 

Joshua, like Soonyoung, looks almost the same. Just – _more_. Joshua has been working out, and Hansol tries not to stare at the new muscle in his arms. Is this a thing with the 95 line? He tries to be subtle as he checks Jeonghan's arms, but he's wearing a large, puffy jacket he doesn't take off. Not even when the rest of their group arrives and they make it to the waiting room inside, Jeonghan simply flopping down onto the nearest couch.

Both afraid of getting drawn into a conversation and anxious to see Seungkwan, Hansol lingers by the door, their manager granting reluctant permission when he asks if he can stand just outside, in the hall. 

"Thank you, hyung," Hansol says, bowing shortly, which was maybe odd behavior – Jeonghan opens one eye and looks his way, confused. The rest seem too tired to have noticed.

How relaxed everyone is about this, how much of this is clearly routine, is another clue rolling in Hansol's mind. 

How many times have they gone on MuBank? Crouching against the wall in the hallway, he opens Naver. 

They don't have seventeen members anymore, it seems like, but he decides to start his search there anyway. Other times he's searched for their group name, he gets dozens of unrelated results, scrolling half a page before he gets to Pledis's Seventeen. This time, he hasn't even finished typing the the third character when a suggested search for them attached to an album cover generates. 

_One Million Album Pre-Sales_

Hansol feels his eyes going wide, and finally, of all things in the past hour, this is what makes him wonder if this is somehow fake. A delusion. Is he having some sort of break down, did he pass out in the training room after hitting his head?

_Seventeen breaks personal record with over one million pre-orders –_

"Vernon-ssi?"

He looks up quickly, like he's guilty of something, like he should be ashamed of wanting this kind of success so bad that he apparently imagined it into existence. 

The manger from this morning is walking toward him, but Hansol's gaze ends up landing on the young man beside him. He's petite, with happy coloring that stands out in the early hour and drab hallway: pretty red hair and dark brown eyes. His lips are pretty, too, pink and pouting a bit. 

All this hits Hansol's radar as something pleasant, like a decorated dessert, a cupcake with bright frosting and cute little candy charms pressed into that. Something he'd like to put in his mouth. But Hansol doesn't pay the stranger much attention until he realizes the man is making eye contact with him in return, not just walking the same direction as the manager, but walking _with_ the manager, _toward him_ , and, also, he's Seungkwan.

Hansol nearly chokes on his own tongue. 

Seungkwan as he lives in Hansol's head is a boy just a bit taller than him, a bit sturdier than him, only a month older, but with pushy, bossy hands, shoving Hansol along, tugging him where he wants him to be. Busy words, busy thoughts, busy plans, always knows what he's doing, moving with a purpose and making sure to drag Hansol along, too, so he doesn't get left behind.

He trusts Seungkwan more than anyone – and if Hansol tells Seungkwan a problem, Seungkwan will solve it, and Hansol admires that but – but this Seungkwan is _small_. Smaller than him. So much smaller.

Hansol can't help staring, because as he gets closer he sees Seungkwan is only a little shorter, but he looks light, like he's got the hollow bones of a bird that could let him fly up into the air at any moment. 

"Seungkwan," Hansol says.

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. The warmth Hansol was expecting to see is not there. 

Seungkwan is annoyed with him, and it makes his words dry up.

"Is something wrong?" Seungkwan asks, evenly. 

"Nothing," Hansol mumbles. Seungkwan's voice. It's different, it's husky and low. Hansol wants to hear him sing. 

Seungkwan gives him a closer look, then pulls one of the coffees out of the tray in his hands, and gives it to Hansol. He walks into the waiting room without another word, the manager close behind. 

Hansol blinks into the empty hall. 

Seungkwan has been mad at him before, but usually that's when he gets _most_ of Seungkwan's attention. He makes a big production of it, stomping and trying to pick fights, wanting to say his piece. 

That was cold Seungkwan. Hansol's seen him before, but never aimed at himself. 

Hansol must have really screwed something up. He'll have to apologize. He'll have to do it later, when they're alone. 

So sure that Seungkwan would be able to help, Hansol hadn't even started thinking about trying to solve this problem on his own. Or even getting through the next few hours. 

But it's fine. He'll just get through.. the performance. The performance. 

Hansol opens Naver again, scrolling back to the article. It mentions the name of the album, but not the songs. Eventually Hansol does find the songs, but not a video. Even if he did find the video, would he really be able to perform it? On MuBank? After watching it _once_?

He's been unprepared for monthly evaluations before, and even that was enough to make him feel queasy. But a broadcast, his _first broadcast_ \-- his breathing starts picking up, panicking. He can't do this. 

Even after Seungkwan's clear annoyance with him, he can't imagine explaining this to anyone else, going to anyone else. As if on cue, Seungkwan leaves the room, this time alone. He pointedly doesn't meet Hansol's eyes as he walks by, going to ward the bathroom. Hansol jumps to his feet. 

" _Seungkwan_ ," Hansol says. Seungkwan stops, turning around in surprise. Hansol catches up with him, tugging on the edge of Seungkwan's shirt when he gets within reach without thinking about it. Seungkwan stiffens at the touch, and Hansol lets his hand drop. 

"What?" 

"I can't do it today."

"You can't do what today?" Seungkwan asks, and his voice is a little curt, maybe it's mean, but it might also be that he's just confused and worried, so that's what Hansol tells himself, and he powers forward. 

"I - I can't - perform. On MuBank. Today."

Seungkwan stares, blinking as he processes that, disbelieving. "You're serious?" 

"I would," Hansol hurries on, fingers twisting in his own shirt. Seungkwan looks down at the movement, expression creasing in deeper confusion, then back up to Hansol's face. "But I can't." 

"Do you need to go to the hospital??"

"No, I – I'm – I just - I can't do it."

Seungkwan's eyes bounce across Hansol's face. For a moment, he sees that familiar tenderness and concern. _Finally_. "What’s wrong?"

Hansol opens his mouth but he can't think of anything, so he shrugs, and shakes his head. 

"You just can't," Seungkwan says.

Hansol nods.

"But – "

"Please, Seungkwan," Hansol says. Seungkwan's mouth slowly shuts. He looks pained, then finally shakes his head. 

"Okay. I'm telling them you're going to the hospital," Seungkwan says. "Because that's the only thing anyone's going to believe. Leave now, or a manager's going to try to go with you."

Hansol nods jerkily along – it's not what he was expecting. He was expecting to Seungkwan to take his hand, and help him, not to send him on his way to figure out himself, but this is fine. This is good. Hansol can do this. 

"Thank you," Hansol says, and half bows. 

It's instinctive, because while he knows he's talking to Seungkwan, his brain is also saying he's talking to a much older hyung. 

Seungkwan stares, looking even more confused.

Before he can open his mouth, Hansol hurries down the hallway, to the elevator, quickly slipping out onto the street like Seungkwan instructed.


	2. Chapter Two

There's someone else in Hansol's bed.

This hasn't happened in a while, and Hansol's higher thought is bewildered, trying to come up with an answer, some memory, some face he would expect to see sharing his pillow. The more he wakes up, though, the more confusing it gets. 

It’s definitely _nice_ to be curled so close with someone in such a familiar, comfortable way, but nothing about this is _right_. Not the feel of the bed beneath him, not the strangely familiar scent of fabric softener, and he tries to orient himself in the room without opening his eyes, but finds himself dizzy from the effort. Is he in a hotel room… ? Where's the door, which way is the bed pointing? He can't visualize any of it, but still there's a stubborn voice in his head going, _wait.. wait, I know it, just give me a second…_

A little irritated, Hansol opens his eyes.

His face is pressed into a blue pillowcase, patterned with childish stars. 

He knows those stars. He knows that little yellow bleach stain in the corner, too, but before he can _quite_ place it, Doyoon walks by the open door.

Hansol _slams_ up in bed, heart racing like he just saw a ghost. 

"What? What is it?" a groggy, familiar voice says. 

His bedmate – Seungkwan. But a baby, baby Seungkwan looks up at him, wincing like waking up itself is causing him pain. Then he whines, pitifully, curling around the pillow. 

"It's too early Sollie."

Hansol watches Seungkwan shift and shuffle in bed, trying to fall back asleep. Hansol lifts his own hand, and stares.

He is a stick figure. 

It's like there's no muscle on his body, he looks up and down his forearm, then follows that to his elbow. He wraps his hand around his own wrist, and is shocked at just how far he keep his fingers linked together as he keeps going down his arm.

" _Boo Seungkwan!_ " Wonwoo is at their door. He's in his school uniform and carrying his backpack. He knocks twice, roughly. This must not be the first time he's tried to wake him up. "Get up!"

Seungkwan just whines again.

"Make sure he gets up, will you?" Wonwoo says to Hansol, then keeps going. Hansol sits, stunned, listening to Wonwoo's footsteps down the hall. A few seconds later, Soonyoung goes rushing by, pulling on his own backpack. They both leave, the door shutting behind them.

The dorm gets quiet.

Seungkwan does not move. 

Hansol looks Seungkwan's sleeping form under the blanket, the idea of reaching out to touch him feels – irresponsible, really. 

This feels fake, like it's a dream Hansol will wake up from, as long as he does it quietly, without being noticed. But altering the scene, taking active part in it – feels like it will seal him here in some way. Like Persephone eating Hades's fruit. 

But.. he doesn't want Seungkwan to be late for school…

"Seungkwan," he says, then blinks. The sound of his voice is so – so light and high. 

"Did you sleep?" Seungkwan asks, voice muffled into the pillow. He lifts just enough of his face to look up at Hansol.

"Yes – yeah," he says. "I slept well. You?"

Seungkwan just mashes his face back down. 

"You have class," Hansol reminds him.

"Maybe I'm sick."

Hansol opens his mouth, then pauses, squashing his own immediate responses, trying to imagine what he _would've_ said back in the past, the first time he laid in this bed, on this morning. 

He always felt a little weird and guilty when the others went to school, it didn't matter how often it happened. He might have tried to – remind Seungkwan that he was doing something with his day, too..?

"Then you sleep in," he says, flippantly, and sits up, starting to climb across Seungkwan's body. "I'm getting ready for practice."

Seungkwan makes an awfully bratty noise of protest, kicking under him like he might try to stop Hansol from crawling away. He doesn't, and eventually, a few minutes later, joins Hansol in the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

Hansol stares at the two of them in the mirror. It's a profoundly surreal sight, nothing like looking a still photo of the past. The best his brain lands on is seeing old friends, people he used to know and care about, but have been away for so long they feel more like strangers now. 

It's hard to tell with Seungkwan bent over the sink, but he thinks this is before his own growth spurts really started. Seungkwan might still be taller. 

Seungkwan spits into the sink. 

"I'll go straight to the studio after school so we can practice," Seungkwan says, and starts washing his face. "Try to eat a big breakfast, you'll need the energy." 

Hansol nods. 

From Seungkwan's deathly solemn tone, Hansol guesses this is an evaluation day. He knows he's right when Seungkwan rushes to the door, hopping awkwardly into one shoe, and then the other, but still pauses to say, very seriously, "You'll do great, Hansollie."

Then Seungkwan leaves, and Hansol is alone in the dorm. 

He walks through the empty halls, peering through the doors. 

The company is constantly putting little moments of their lives in time capsules and presenting them to the members years later, documenting their reactions. This feels like that. Like this is a recreation of their old dorm, faithfully and perfectly assembled, for him to walk through, like an exhibit in a Seventeen museum for carats to visit. 

There's the bunk beds. There's Jihoon's keyboard in the living room. Wonwoo's DS charging on the side table. There's the rows and rows of clothing racks, shared by all of them, lining all along the length of the dorm.

There's his hoodie, sitting on the arm of the couch. It looks impossibly small, but the fabric feels heavy when Hansol picks it up, and it hangs, oversized on his tiny body, when he pulls it on. 

He stands in the silence of the dorm, looking down at his hands, small enough to be curtained completely from view.

Maybe… maybe being here is a chance for Hansol to fix things. 

x

Fanservice didn't seem like a big deal at sixteen. 

It made their fans happy, and their company happy, and the PDs happy. 

It made Seungkwan happy. 

And Hansol liked it, too – in a way that was hard to say, at the time. But he had wanted to be useful to the group, especially to Seungkwan. 

It wasn't that Hansol was really so overcome with attraction to Seungkwan, but – he liked being Seungkwan's partner. He liked being the one Seungkwan needed for this, in particular. He liked the idea – that he mattered to Seungkwan, as much as Seungkwan mattered to him, in a way that was unique, to them, just theirs. 

They were trained on it – alongside their classes about variety banter, talents, interviews, all the fluff stuff. They weren't supposed to do anything direct as kiss. It was supposed to be there if fans wanted to see it, but something they could ignore if they didn't. 

Hansol heard these instructions as being close, touchy, and friendly with Seungkwan. Simple and easy, basically what he would've done anyway half the time, just a little - _more_. 

Seungkwan paid close attention to their lessons, but he never talked about it when it was just the two of them alone. Of all the things they did, of all the things Seungkwan did, _this_ actually embarrassed him, and he grew shy, mumbling whenever someone mentioned it in their real life. 

It was fun to see Seungkwan like that, because he was usually so loud and sure. Sometimes Hansol brought it up, just to see him squirm, to have the upperhand on him, cause it was so hard for Hansol to get that – when they were sixteen.

x

At seventeen, Hansol was chosen before anyone else to make a solo appearance. 

It did not go well. 

He was numb as he left the project, aware it went poorly, but not realizing _just_ how bad it would be until later, until it kept coming up, day after day, week after week, and months later, it was still following him.

Their group finally debuted at this same time, and whenever an interviewer looked Hansol's way, and he could see recognition flicker in their face, Hansol felt real fear.

Seungkwan was like a superhero, in those moments. 

He spoke their language, and knew how to distract them, changing the topic without making it weird. 

Hansol was given a script from the company, but he never had to say it. Seungkwan was always there, stepping in front of Hansol and battling off the cruel questions like a knight against a dragon. 

This made them grow even closer, intensely so, without once ever talking about what it actually meant, what they actually wanted. It didn't seem like they needed to – it really felt like they were on the same page. 

Hansol was happy with what they had, and saw no evidence that Seungkwan felt any differently. 

When he was seventeen.

x

At twenty, the cracks start to show.

The problem is that there's only one Seungkwan.

There's two of everyone else. Like Jihoon – Woozi was supposed to be a bright and cute member. But Jihoon is a quiet and serious hyung, he's sincere and heartfelt. When he does talk, it's because he has something to say that he's thought deeply on. Pledis asked for him to be bubbly, and to his credit, Jihoon did try, at first, to give Woozi a bright, happy face. He could force moments of it, but in the end, Jihoon's introversion turned Woozi into a strict presence, someone who is quiet because he doesn't suffer nonsense. 

It works, but no one could've planned that, these things can't really be controlled or predicted. After enough time, they just sort of – grow on their own. Whether they wanted it or not. 

At this point, everyone's developed a second face and a voice. It just became the thing, they notice what sort of things fans liked, and they start doing it, until they become habits, part of a personality – but not their real personality. Just. The one they have, sometimes, when they're around the people who became very, very happy when they behave a certain way. 

But not Seungkwan. 

There's only one Seungkwan. 

Seungkwan who reaches for Hansol's hand, who rests his chin on Hansol's shoulder, who hugs him from behind, that's the same Seungkwan at home. That's the same Seungkwan who shares his bed, whenever he gets the chance. 

Maybe part of Hansol saw it before, but it's only now he lets himself admit it. He starts feeling regret, for letting the line between them blur so much, become so confusing for both of them. 

"It's not bad," Seungkwan mumbles, the first time they actually talk frankly about it. How they feel. They're both in Hansol's bed, the room is empty but they're speaking barely above whispers. "If we keep doing it. We don't have to if you don't want to, but it's not something bad."

Hansol can read Seungkwan better than anyone. Others might think he's being surly, annoyed, because he's frowning so hard, and he won't make eye contact with Hansol. Hansol knows he's terrified. 

He doesn't want that, doesn't want Seungkwan to be scared, and he agrees, it's not anything – _bad_. 

"It's not," Hansol agrees. They feel too far apart on the bed, Hansol can't stand the distance, so he pulls him into a hug. Seungkwan hugs him back, and it doesn't really solve anything, but it's as far as either of them can confess tonight, and both of them are relieved to leave it there, for now.

The next time Seungkwan tries it on stage, he's hesitant, watching Hansol's reaction carefully – so Hansol grabs his hand, too, throwing his arm around him. 

He's not sure what all this will turn into, but yeah. It's not _bad_ in the meantime. 

x

One week, Hansol has two messy dreams in a row that feature Seungkwan. As if he can sense it, a day later, Seungkwan kisses him.

It's not a coy peck. He's making a point, glaring at Hansol before he grips the back of Hansol's neck, and pulls him down, and kissing him until his tongue is in Hansol's mouth. 

He steps back, glaring at Hansol, like he's daring him to say something. But again, Hansol knows how high Seungkwan is holding his chin in the air isn't anger, it's fear. 

In that moment, all Hansol wants is to kiss him back, until he stops looking afraid. 

So he does.

x

Eventually, it all comes to a head.

Seungkwan is crying, demanding an answer – and this time it is real anger.

"What do _you want_ from me, Hansol?"

Hansol doesn't know. 

_I want you to be happy_ doesn't seem like enough, he can't come up with anything else, so he doesn't say a word.

Seungkwan gives up, and leaves him there. 

Things are tense and cold between them, and the other members notice, but thankfully, no one forces them to talk. They keep it together enough. Sometimes Hansol attempts to fix things between them, but all his gestures seem hopelessly clumsy and wrong, getting Seungkwan angrier and angrier, until he's something like a spitting viper.

Hansol finds himself remembering, with pathetic envy, a time when Seungkwan and he were younger. When they were friends, when the feelings between them weren't so intense – when this was easy and simple.

x

Hansol spends the entire morning and most of the afternoon in the dorm, waiting for something or another to send him back to where he ought to be. 

Nothing happens, so he tries a nap, but he wakes up in the same tiny body a half hour later. He eats a big lunch, chewing slowly, and deciding that the safest choice, for now, is to just head to practice like everyone expects. 

He remembers the path the Pledis's studio easily, but walking down the streets is just as surreal as everything else has been. 

Things he never knew he noticed – the nest of birds on the side of that building, the smell of fish from the deli, that coffee shop's recycling stacked on the side of the street. Things that only exist in this time, and years from now, are already permanently lost. 

Hansol walks through the door of their building, and he sees a receptionist writing with a pen, one that, where he's from, is certainly long gone, all out of ink, thrown in the trash and melted down into something new, or sitting forgotten in a landfill. 

"Hansol?" The receptionist asks, noticing his stare. "Do you need anything?"

"Ah, no. I'm fine, thanks," Hansol nods, half bowing, and escaping to the training rooms. 

He doesn't enter them, though, just staring through the windows at the trainees inside, practicing. He recognizes some of them, and knows what they will look like in the next few years. He knows what will happen to them, which makes their existence now endlessly fascinating. 

"Hansol!" Seungkwan is suddenly there, beside him, and from his tone, Hansol can tell he was trying to get his attention for some time.

"Oh. Sorry – "

"Sorry I'm late," Seungkwan says, out of breath, waving Hansol's apology away. "Did you practice?"

Hansol only hesitates a second, but that's all Seungkwan needs. He takes Hansol's hand and starts walking down the hall, bringing Hansol with him.

"We still have two hours. I need to practice, too, but you go first," Seungkwan says. "Did you eat?"

"Yes," Hansol says.

"Good, and I bought us bananas, too – "

"Seungkwan." 

Seungkwan stops. He looks over his shoulder at Hansol, his urgency melting immediately away to open concern.

"What's wrong?"

For a moment, Hansol is stunned silent by the switch, and the sheer intensity of his stare.

"Are you nervous?" Seungkwan says, he comes in closer, putting both hands on Hansol's shoulders. "It's okay. Remember, like my mom said. Sometimes managers just want to tell you that you messed up because it makes them feel like they did their job. And sometimes they're having a bad day. But they're just people, too. Remember. Okay?"

The sincerity is painful. 

More painful than that is how Seungkwan is trying to hide it. He's still a kid, and bashful about romance. It's a secret, Seungkwan's _deepest_ secret, how much he cares about Hansol. He can't pull it off. His eyes are too soft, he's too intense, he's gripping Hansol's shirt, like he wants to tug Hansol in close, away from the thing upsetting him, as if it's that simple. 

This is all of Seungkwan's pure, poorly disguised, nervous love, aimed directly at Hansol.

They were new to this. Every show of affection from one needed something in return from the other, terrified of rejection. They were constantly testing, trying to get the same answer, again and again.

_I like you, do you like me?_

It's been so long, Hansol's memory stripped away everything but the embarrassment. He'd forgotten, completely, the excitement of this timid push and pull between them – but he knows how to answer this.

"Yeah. Thanks, Seungkwan," he says, smiling. 

Seungkwan's face lights up in a smile in return, and when they get to the practice room, he hands Hansol the banana from his backpack. He runs across the room to the speakers, and plugs in his phone.

A heavy beat, one Hansol had completely forgot until this moment, fills the room, and each note brings memories slapping down, one on top of another, in his mind. 

Oh – god, this _had_ been a hard month, hadn't it? The evaluations before this were right after he dropped out of school, and the producers had ripped him apart. This month, Hansol remembers – he'd been so nervous that he'd made a mistake quitting school, that he wasn't going to be able to pass the next monthly evaluation, that he'd be cut from the company, and left with nothing.

He'd been young at the time – obviously – and all his memories are centered entirely on his own worries. He's struggled to fall asleep the night before, he'd felt too sick to eat breakfast. 

He hadn't really been aware, at all, how much these events had weighed on Seungkwan, too.

Seungkwan plops down beside the speakers, an attentive, encouraging audience of one. 

"I watched the routine again during lunch today," Seungkwan is close to shouting, to be heard over the speakers. "So I can give good notes!"

Hansol nods. 

He walks to the center of the practice room, slogging through his memories, trying to recall the starting pose. Once he does, and gets in position, and the music reaches his cue – it's like his body has a jump start. 

Muscle memory takes over, and Hansol falls into the beat. He can feel old mistakes he used to make waiting for him in the movements – overstepping on a beat, not committing enough to a drop – and corrects them, his movements sharper, smoother. 

The music ends, and Seungkwan stares, eyes wide, like he can't believe what he just saw. 

"Hansol!" 

"What?" Hansol laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"You didn't practice today?? That was amazing! You were amazing!" his words do not match his face: creased in annoyance. "Acch, now _I'm_ worried."

"You'll be great. You've been practicing all month," he says, the music and the steps have settled Hansol completely back into this moment in time. He remembers Seungkwan's routine now, too, and he remembers Seungkwan's own worries about it. 

" _Yeah_ , but," Seungkwan sighs, and pushes his bangs to the side. He doesn't want to say it, and he doesn't have to. He's complained in the past for Hansol to know: _but it's harder for him._ Seungkwan feels like he gets picked on. At the time, Hansol had never known what to say when Seungkwan complained about this. 

As an adult looking at the situation, it's obvious: Seungkwan was one of the company's most promising talents, and that kept him constantly on their radar. Where other trainees were allowed to slip up, they noticed every time Seungkwan stepped out of the model they were trying to shape him in. 

"Hey," Hansol says, tilting his head to get in Seungkwan's eyeline, making sure their eyes meet. "You know they focus on you so much because they want to make the most of your talent, right? You're too valuable for them to lose."

Seungkwan blinks. Then delight scrunches his nose, snickering, pushing Hansol back playfully. "Hansollie, that was cool. Is that from a movie?"

"No," Hansol says, and can't help smiling back, happy to help with Seungkwan's worries, for the answers to come so easily. "Just me."

"Acch, you're so cool all of a sudden, what's going on?" Seungkwan says, shoving him back again. "Okay, I need to practice." 

Seungkwan goes through his dance. 

From the years and years of experience Hansol's gained, he can see where Seungkwan will improve. He's a perfectionist, and will sacrifice speed to make sure he gets the steps _right_. He doesn't miss many details, but he's too slow, and lacks confidence. 

Praise is the thing he needs, Hansol thinks, but praise is not what either of them will get.

Like this morning, Hansol finds himself reluctant to say anything – to touch this Seungkwan, unsure what his words might do. If they might hurt. Seungkwan can sometimes be jovial and welcoming of feedback, and sometimes it cuts deep, and Hansol could never tell the difference. 

He didn't have to worry, though, he finds himself clapping naturally, instinctively at the end. Seungkwan is awkward but delighted with the praise, bowing low at the waist. 

"Okay, I'm going again," he says, and sets up the song. He talks about the plans for the next two hours, how they should try to take a break before evaluations begin, if they can get the time, and then after that, they can watch a movie in the dorm! Because there's no school tomorrow, so they can both stay up late, so Hansol should think about what movie he wants. 

Hansol watches, a bit in awe, as Seungkwan effortlessly plans out their entire day, knowing he will do the same for their week, and year, and life. And Hansol realizes it really doesn't matter – he could repeat this life a hundred more times, and he would still, always, be hopelessly drawn into Seungkwan's orbit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDK i reread this and was surprised at how intense it felt! trust me this fic will end with true verkwan love, vernon's just struggling with his own head right now i promise ♥


	3. Chapter Three

Hansol walks four quick blocks away from MuBank's doors before slowing down. 

It's early, early morning and the streets are basically empty, so it's easy to avoid anyone who might have a camera.

At the first street corner Hansol stops, looking each direction. The city hasn't changed nearly as much as his members, he knows where he is, but where is he going, exactly? And then.. what? What should he be doing once he gets there?? 

No one else is going to be solving this for him, he's got to figure it out on his own, but he doesn't know where to begin at all... He's never heard of anything like this before, not in movies or video games or anything. Not even Harry Potter. 

The only thing he thinks of when he hears _missing time_ is alien abductions, or comas. He obviously wasn't in a coma. He frowns to himself. Well. Well, he doesn't think it was aliens, either.

But Hansol's not figuring anything out by standing on this corner. 

He should go somewhere private, he decides. He doesn't know the dorm's address, too disoriented to even notice the street name outside the apartment earlier, so he pokes around his phone until he finds some delivery confirmations from meals he ordered recently. He sees one Seoul address show over and over up in the messages, and it's at odd hours, too, so it seems like a safe bet – Hansol thinks anywhere he's ordered samgyeopsal at two in the morning is probably safe enough. 

The address is in Hapjeong, near Han River, so it's definitely not the building he woke up in this morning, but Hansol decides this is worth a try anyway. Plus, hopefully none of the managers will be there. 

He types the address into the directions app, finds the nearest train, gets a ticket, and takes the twenty minute train to Hapjeong.

On the ride, he opens his photo album. 

He wants to see Seungkwan again. 

Get another look at how he's grown up. 

He was so – so different, but obviously still Seungkwan, but so adult. _So pretty_. But so mad... Hansol remembers his phone password, and Seungkwan's lips, and wonders if, in the years Hansol missed seeing himself, they've _kissed._

Truthfully, the idea is enormous in his brain and Hansol is trying to inch around it politely, but it's just too big. There's barely room for anything else. 

Maybe they did. Maybe Hansol likes the idea? He doesn't know. Seungkwan is certainly the kind of person he wanted in his life forever, a forever person, permanent, and – he supposed, if they were going to be together forever – that sort of thing came with kisses, sometimes. And other stuff. It's a lot, and Hansol tucks his chin into his shirt, wanting to hide away, feeling a little overwhelmed, and hopeful, and confused, and – and why is it so hard to find these pictures of Seungkwan???

He has to go so far back before he reaches what he's looking for, not pictures where they're all in a group, but ones where it's just him and Seungkwan, like how they are now – or, how they were, back from what Hansol remembers. 

The first one he sees is a picture of Seungkwan holding a little white dog. Then a picture of Seungkwan sleeping on a couch. Seungkwan and Hansol posing together in front of a mirror, Seungkwan's hand on Hansol shoulder. Hansol blinks down at his own image in the picture, then looks down to confirm, indeed, to his delighted surprise, just how broad his own shoulders have grown. 

He bounces one, watching it shift under his hoodie, then looks back at the picture, Seungkwan's head cocked slightly to the side and back, resting on Hansol's shoulder.

Suddenly embarrassed, face heating, Hansol keeps scrolling. 

A picture at a restaurant. Seated on the other side of a table, Seungkwan lifts up his chopsticks, looking over his meal. A terrible picture where Seungkwan's eyes are half open, then another where Seungkwan is pouting and annoyed, obviously in the middle of scolding him, and Hansol feels himself smiling. 

A two second video, from the same scene at dinner. Seungkwan is holding up his plate, but the camera goes up, recording Seungkwan's face instead. 

He seems happier now, " _– look at this cut, aaah. It's so chewy when they grill it like this!_ "

In his videos now, Hansol sees a much longer clip next. The preview image is Seungkwan, wearing headphones in a recording booth. Hansol presses play, and Seungkwan sings. Hansol's never heard this song before, and it's obviously a warm up, Seungkwan's voice husky and breathy. His eyes are shut, and his hair is dark brown, not red. Hansol listens, until his eyes land on the date. 

That was – almost a year ago. 

Hansol frowns at the gap in pictures. From six months ago to today, there's nothing with just Seungkwan. 

Have they been fighting this whole time?

The train announces he's at his station, so Hansol quickly gets up, pulling the map app again as he exits the train, head still swimming in thoughts of Seungkwan. 

Were he and Seungkwan boyfriends? 

Did they break up?

Did Seungkwan stand in front of Hansol and cry when it happened, like everyone else Hansol has gone out with?

No. 

Hansol doesn't want to think about that being true. 

He's so concerned with these thoughts that he walks aimlessly for several blocks. He doesn't recognize anything in the neighborhoods he passes anyway. He's never been here before, and this is starting to become unsettling. Seeing his name above this address, above this food order. He placed this order, and he probably ate it, but he can't remember any of it. What else did he say and do? _What sort of things did he say to Seungkwan?_

The apartment building he finally arrives at is unassuming, on the edge of a quiet neighborhood, but there's something about size of the entrance, the wide doors and the sturdy, massive pillars – this place is expensive, he thinks. 

_Unit 21-7_ is what's listed on the receipt, and on the apartment buzzer next to that unit is Seokmin's sister's name. 

Hansol perks at the sight, confident he's in the right place. Since their webseries and streams, all the trainees have started using her name at hotels and booking karaoke rooms and other stuff, when they don't want to be noticed. Even a few times at coffee shops when they don't want their names announced. Hansol walks into the lobby confidently, and even nods toward the front desk, where a guard nods back. 

He doesn't have a key, but when searching earlier on the train he found a document with different cities and digits beside that. _Hapjeong: 75741_ opens the door. 

He opens without thinking, then stops, reality hitting him.

He quickly closes the door almost all the way, then knocks, cracking the door just enough to peak inside. 

"Hello?" he asks, voice shaky. He clears his throat, and tries again. "Hello?"

No response. 

He opens the door a bit more, looking around, but all he sees is a dark, narrow entrance way. There's no one in view, and he doesn't hear anyone, but he's still as quiet as possible as he slips inside, closing the door behind him softly. He waits a beat longer there, with his back against the door, just in case. 

No one appears. The entrance is a small space, so he can't really see the rest of the apartment, just a closet door and natural light spilling in from the rest of the apartment.

Hansol toes off his shoes, still quiet and cautious, and walks deeper inside – and sees a open, perfect view of Han River. 

"Oh wow," he says. There's a big porch, and a big kitchen, and an exciting loft area he climbs up immediately, wanting to see what's hidden up there. It's just a bed, but the railing looking over the rest of the apartment is cool. 

He sees a book in English that must belong to Joshua on the side table, and some weights, a laptop, and a yoga mat, two computers set up side by side for gaming – a picture of Soonyoung with his sister on the fridge, and a picture of Jun with a group of friends Hansol doesn't recognize beside that. 

Hansol suspected it as soon as he saw Seokmin's sister's name, and now he's sure. This must be their apartment, like a shared one. Maybe like, somewhere they go when they want privacy. There's two more bedrooms and a large Jacuzzi tub, but barely food in the kitchen, and almost no clothes in the bedrooms. So not a place they stay very long.

He circles back into the front room and spots a gaming tower beside the television. 

The case is pretty: huge, white and black, and super tall. The PlayStation's logo cut into the side is exciting enough to distract him from anything else for a few brief giddy moments as he turns it on, then scrambles to find the remote. 

He's just found it when his phone vibrates. Hansol pulls it out and looks down at the display.

_Calling… Seungcheol-hyung_

He doesn't think twice, answering immediately. "Hello?"

"Chwe Hansol." Seungcheol's voice is serious as death, and Hansol remembers exactly what he just did – ditching a live performance. Hansol swallows, and slowly sets down the remote in his hand. 

All the members have high expectations for themselves and for everyone else, but Seungcheol is the leader and most strict about it. Hansol better have a good excuse, Seungcheol isn't going to let him off the hook like Seungkwan did. 

"Yes?" 

"Are you alright?" 

Hansol blinks, disoriented. "I'm – yes. I'm okay."

"You left."

".. Yeah," Hansol says, weakly. "I did."

A beat of quiet. Then a sudden burst, urgent and worried: "I try to pay attention to everyone's condition," Seungcheol says. "But I miss things. You need to tell me if – or you need to tell _someone_ if something's wrong. If you need a break. You can have a break – "

"No, hyung," Hansol says, head spinning. "It's not like that, I'm alright."

"But you left," Seungcheol says, like he doesn't believe it, then huffs. "Where are you?"

"The apartment in Hapjeong."

"And you're safe."

"Yes, really. I'm sorry, but – yes. I'm okay."

Seungcheol exhales. It's a long, angry sound, and Hansol can tell that he was really worried, down to his bones. "… Is this about you and Seungkwan?" he asks, like the idea just occurred to him.

Hansol's mouth works once. There's no better excuses hiding in there, so. 

"Yeah," he says. "Sorry."

Seungcheol groans, clearly annoyed. "You two need to work this out. This can't happen again," he says. "After the rest of us are done filming, Seungkwan is going to Hapjeong, and you two are going to figure things out."

"Yes, hyung."

"Okay," Seungcheol says, then flounders a bit like he feels awkward giving such a direct, firm order. "Then. Okay. Talk to me if you need help. Or – if you can't talk to me, then someone."

"I will."

"Yeah? You will? You keep a lot to yourself, Chwe," he scoffs, but then let it go. "But good. Okay. Talk to you later."

"Thank you," Hansol says. He wants to say good luck on the filming, but that feels stupid, with how he just ditched it. He hangs up, then looks at the PlayStation. It feels a little less exciting, so Hansol sits there, quietly, feeling scolded and guilty. 

If Seungcheol was just mad that would be one thing, but him being worried is worse.

Maybe he should be worried about Seungkwan coming over, but actually he thinks that's good. Especially if it's just the two of them, in this fun apartment. They'll figure things out. Maybe they fought for a few months but when Seungkwan saw that Hansol needed to leave, he let him, and was concerned. So it will be okay, he thinks. This idea energizes him, and when the case for _Spider-man_ catches his eye, he turns his attention back to the game. 

He tries to imagine all the cool, futuristic updates there will be, a little worried that maybe it will be so advanced he won't know how to play, but actually it's the same, the graphics are just a billion times better. The controls are more responsive, too, and Hansol swings around the city, entranced, pausing periodically as private messages from the rest of the members start coming in. 

**Wonwoo** :  
Hey, let's get lunch together soon  
Next time you're free

 **Soonyoung** :  
Did you want to say something this morning???  
sorry if I was distracted ha....  
Aah  
sorry  
I sent you away, right?  
><  
lets talk soon!!!!

 **Jihoon** :  
Tell me if you need anything, really  
I mean it

 **Chan** :  
Hansol!! Don't bottle things up! If you need someone to talk to I can listen without telling anyone else. And I won't judge either, you know. You can tell me anything! Even if it's personal, I don't mind hearing that. Even if you think it's embarrassing, if it's weighing on your mind I can definitely help... everyone has struggles and it's nothing to be embarrassed about, we've all helped each other before... 

And on, and on, including one from that mysterious member, one Hansol's learned a bit more about. A Chinese dancer, and an artist, and Hansol's close friend, apparently. 

**Minghao** :  
You've always helped me when I need it. Don't forget I'm here for you too.

The messages are all so intense. Hansol wonders did someone – _die_ , or something.. ?? He eats the take out he ordered for lunch and searches briefly, for the names their relatives and the three missing members, but nothing comes up. 

Oh. There, he sees it. 

_S. Coups taking a break from schedule activities due to anxiety._

Aaah.. they must be worried, it's the same situation, again. And it's not like Hansol could correct them... Or is he going to have to, eventually? What is he going to do, seriously?? He frowns hard as he finishes his meal, but can't come up with answer.

He plays Spider-man some more. 

Spider-man isn't Peter Parker in this version, he's a character Hansol doesn't recognize, and he doesn't know the female character either, but he's not surprised when the romantic cut scene happens. They were good friends so it felt like the inevitable thing when they started making out. 

Hansol pauses at that level, gets up and drinks some water, then has the random urge to look up the video of Seungkwan singing again.

He ends up slouched low on the couch, scrolling through his videos and pictures. 

When Seungkwan first joined the company he was chubby and his haircut was really bad. Even Hansol, who didn't care much about that sort of thing, could tell. The company had him on a strict diet straight away, and with all the dancing, and some growth spurts, he quickly lost all the weight. His cheeks were always round, though. 

Hansol scrolls back and back in time, and he sees versions of Seungkwan where his cheeks are rounder and chubbier again. Sometimes he has dark hair, sometimes he has light hair. The Seungkwan he saw today was cold and intimidating. These Seungkwans, as they get younger, are softer and happier. He watches as many videos as he has saved of these Seungkwans, him playing indoor soccer, backstage at a concert, smiling at Hansol. Sending him hearts. Winking. He's just – cute. And he's so happy, too, posing and joking, pulling silly faces. 

He finds one lone voicemail still saved, from several months ago. It's from Seungkwan, and his voice is a quiet, low mumble, like he's maybe trying to hide the fact that he's talking on the phone. 

The pout is clear in his voice. _"Hansollie... everyone's waiting, are you still coming? We're at bibimbap down the street. We said it this morning, did you forget? Text if you changed your mind. We'll wait a little longer but we're going to order soon, okay? Or... well... you want soybean paste stew, I know... and Hansollie likes beef brisket.. "_ A pause. Then, suddenly, not mumbling anymore, _"Listen! I'll just order what you like! Bye!"_

This voice mail is old but it makes Hansol smile so much he can tell why he saved it. Seungkwan says the last part like it's a punishment, like, _so there!_ but he's taking care of Hansol, like he always does. 

x

"Hansol? It's me," Seungkwan says, rapping lightly on the front door, mid-afternoon. 

Hansol's still slouched low on the couch and sits up straight in a quick snap. Seungkwan walks through the hall, taking off his jacket, glancing around. He has his stage make up on, he looks otherworldly, flawless, and for a second Hansol is stunned stupid.

"Hello," he says, awkwardly, getting to his feet, sticking his hands in his back pockets, also awkwardly.

Seungkwan sighs. "I'm sorry."

Not expecting that at all, Hansol frowns. "Why?"

"Come on," Seungkwan mutters, with clear self-directed annoyance, eyes avoiding Hansol a bit, looking at the floor, and then to the side. "An idol leaves in the middle of an important schedule without telling anyone where he's going... But I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking like that. And either way, you wanted to talk to me, whatever happened between us… I'm still your friend. I should've listened," he says. "I'm sorry."

 _Whatever happened between us, I'm still your friend._

"We did break up?" Hansol asks without thinking, unable to hide the shake in his voice.

Seungkwan freezes, like he can't believe Hansol would have the gall to ask. 

"Were we ever together?" Seungkwan finally asks, quietly. 

Hansol stares, unable to even guess at the right answer. 

Seungkwan's eyes close, and he laughs weakly. "We're supposed to talk about this, not fight."

Hansol nods.

"Whatever we were, whatever we had," Seungkwan says. "Is over. And we can't do it like that again."

Hansol nods, again, and he knows, he messed it up. He did this. The intense emotions of this scene, the stuff that usually goes over him, around him, never touching, are hitting him square in the chest. Seungkwan's hurting and cold and angry from what Hansol did, and Hansol feels all of it, and it's the worst thing he's ever felt, _how could he mess this up?_

"I'm sorry," Hansol blurts. "Whatever I did. I'm sorry. I don't know – I don't know how to fix anything, but I'm sorry."

Seungkwan is startled by the outburst, eyes going wide. "Hansol – "

"I know hyung told us to fix this, but for a little while can we just act like things are normal first?" Hansol asks. He thought he wanted to talk this out and fix everything, but being here doing it is terrible. He doesn't want to do it. "Just until dinner, or something, and then we can talk. But can we just act like – like – "

"Like friends?" 

"Yeah," Hansol says, nodding eagerly. "We could play a game. Or watch a movie." He gestures toward the TV, where Spider-man is still paused.

Seungkwan looks between Hansol and the game twice. "You've been playing Spider-man all day," he says. He doesn't sound mad, though.

"Was – was that wrong?"

Seungkwan licks his lip, thinking. Finally, "No," he says. "It's not wrong."

"I know you don't like to video games, but this one is really fun if you want to try. There's two player," he says, and picks up the second controller. 

Slowly, Seungkwan takes it. 

They sit together on the couch, Hansol doesn't think twice of getting close enough for their thighs to touch, until Seungkwan stiffens. But he relaxes a second later. 

Seungkwan isn't good at video games, he doesn't like them. He barely had any when he was a kid, so he spent most of his time playing actual sports outside. Usually, he would complain about how his character drops from the sky or runs off buildings, but he doesn't seem to care – tsking lightly when it happens, and then laughing occasionally. 

Hansol is better at it, and when they get to hard parts in the game, he helps Seungkwan get through. It feels good, to be able to help Seungkwan with something, too. He just wishes it was something that actually mattered, something real, something that wouldn't go away the second they set the controllers down for dinner.


End file.
